Who's your friend?
by Gorgoninator
Summary: Roy never backs down from a challenge. ESPECIALLY if there are girls watching.


"Are you even listening to me Maes?" Roy sighed as he halted his story, picking up his glass to take another drink but finding it empty.

Roy's friend shot his head around, returning to the conversation.

"Of course I'm listening to you Roy, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't pay attention to, uh…" He plastered an innocent expression onto his face. "Remind me what exactly you were saying again?" Roy kept his features stern; if he let Hughes know he found his preoccupation amusing it would be paramount to accepting his indifference. Instead he glanced over at the cause of distraction—a charming brunette sitting at the bar—and decided on a new tactic.

"That brunette over there's pretty cute." Roy eyed Maes from the side as he spoke, then darted his gaze over to the girl again to signal a sly interest. Hughes's eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise as he looked over and let out a small sputter.

"Yeah I suppose she is. Ya know, now that you mention it, maybe I should go over there and talk to her." He glanced at the ceiling, the worst attempt at nonchalance Roy had ever seen in his life. He felt his smirk growing against his will as he leaned back casually in his seat.

"I dunno Maes, I think she's more the type to go for an alchemist, don't you?" He hooked his elbow on the corner of his chair, creating an air of casual confidence. He chanced a look at his friend, seeing his expression shift to something more thoughtful.

"You think every girl's the type to go for an alchemist." Hughes leaned back to match Roy's posture, eyes carefully placed elsewhere in the room.

"Only because they are." Roy shot back with a laugh. He could see Hughes smirk as he caught on and found a genuine smile creeping it's way up in response. He leaned forward dramatically, gesturing for Hughes to do so as well so he could whisper into his ear. "Chicks dig power" he mused, attempting a serious baritone but ultimately unable to maintain it. Hughes snorted.

"Power?" an incredulous look crossed his face. "Last week you burned yourself in the field trying to heat your coffee."

"Uncontrollable power." Roy put his arms out into a slight 'what can you do?' expression. "Even better." A smile broke onto Hughe's face as Roy spoke. "Besides. It's not my fault the idiot who designed our canteen cups decided to make them metal."

"Well if you'd just heated the water up in the bag like you were supposed to it would have been fine." Hughes's eyes hit the ceiling, voice dripping. "Sounds more like an operator error to me."

"Well I apologize for not wanting to be a sheep Maes." Roy let his eyes roll up as well, embracing the sarcasm. "Just because everyone else does it that way, doesn't make it the best way."

"Except that it is the the best way." Hughes raised his pointer finger as he spoke, for effect.

"Says who?" Roy pushed some incredulity into his voice.

"Says your burnt fingers." Maes replied immediately, smirking down at the reddened pads on his friends hand.

"Says the company that sells canteen cups." All the seriousness of a seasoned conspiracy theorist graced Mustang's voice. His eyes wandered back to the brunette, she'd ordered a beer while they were talking. "A thousand cenz." Roy glanced at his friend, waiting for the confused request for elaboration.

"A thousand cenz? What—"

"That she likes alchemists." Roy watched as Hughes considered his offer.

"You'll have to be a little more specific Roy." Hughes raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Most people like alchemists to some degree and I'm not about to lose on a technicality." Roy considered his options. The more blatant he was, the more likely Hughes was to legitimately compete. Maybe he could stand looking like a bit of an ass if it meant a real, good, old fashioned stand-off. He decided it was best to commit fully, and leveled Maes with his best, cockiest expression.

"A thousand cenz that she comes home with me tonight." He let his eyes narrow as Maes's widened minutely at his overconfidence. This Roy expected, but he had to admit he was thrown by the laughter that followed.

"You're on Roy-Boy." Maes countered, nostalgia managed to make it's way onto his face in the way that only Hughes could ever manage, despite being directed at a woman he hadn't even met yet. "I've got a good feeling about this one." Roy smiled and swished the ice around in his glass, drawing attention to it.

"Oh no." Roy said, deadpan. "It would appear I have run out of alcohol. What a tragedy." He stood up and gestured widely to the bar. "I suppose I have no choice but to go over there, to the bar, in order to get more." He backed away from the table as he spoke, turning at the halfway point to walk casually up to the empty space near the lady. Leaning over the counter loosely, he ordered a shot. Absinthe.

Roy didn't usually do shots. He preferred drinks you could appreciate over a long period of time—strong at first, but slowly mulled by the melting ice. That however, would be no good for his party tricks. As soon as the shot arrived, he pulled a pen out of his pocket. Keeping one with him was a habit drilled into him during training that hadn't quite had time to disappear.

"Excuse me miss?" He nudged the brunette's elbow, holding the pen with his other hand. She looked up at him and he was struck by the simple yet inviting features she possessed. "Could I trouble you for your napkin?" She narrowed her eyes skeptically at his pen before raising an eyebrow at him

"I'm not giving you my number." She said simply, turning to go back to her beer.

"I'm not asking for your number," Mustang elaborated sweetly, "just your napkin." The girl gave him another calculating look before sighing and taking the napkin out from under her drink. she passed it to him.

"There's a condensation ring on it from the glass, is that okay?" Her question showed interest but she wasn't making eye contact. The fact that she let him borrow it at all was a good sign.

"Actually," Roy leaned deeper against the bar so his eyes were level with hers, "it's perfect. Now I don't have to find something to trace a circle with." She didn't look terribly impressed, but she would be.

Drawing the transmutation circle onto the napkin wasn't the easiest thing Roy had ever done, but having the ring to start with did admittedly make it easier. He could see Maes watching with interest from their table out of the corner of his eye, and that reminded him to do it quickly and cleanly. Screwing up in front of a pretty girl was bad enough, but Hughes would spread the story like wildfire. And he'd lose the bet. Once the circle was finished, Roy reached into his pocket for his lighter.

He played with the spark wheel absently—other hand relaxed on the napkin—before turning to the girl and giving a wink and a flick. Fire shot up and followed a slightly excessive path to the glass, lighting the alcohol ablaze. He chanced another glance at the girl and saw that she was trying not to look interested. Perhaps another tactic was necessary. Which one though?

"You know," he instructed, "it's not actually the alcohol itself that's burning. It's the vapor." She didn't respond, simply glancing at him as he held up the flaming booze to indicate his meaning. "Well, technically speaking the vapor is alcohol," She looked more interested now, he must be on the right track. "but it evaporates more easily than water because of the way the hydrogen bonds, so it's still interesting when you compare it to water." Was she looking at something? He started to turn around to check and—

"Roy-Boy!" Maes clapped him on the back. Hard. Not that he could complain about it without looking like a pansy, but it was clear what it meant. Back off. "I was wondering who this lovely… who this… shit…" Maes was staring at him, alarmed. Roy rolled his eyes, what the hell kind of tactic was this anyway.

"What is it Hughes," Roy sighed dramatically, "did you forget how to talk or are you just having one of your weird moments?"

"Roy, you're on fire."

Roy looked down at his clothing to discover that he was, in fact, on fire. His whole sleeve and part of his torso were in a state of mild burning. Shit. He looked around frantically for the array he'd drawn, setting down his spilled shot. If he could drown out the oxygen, maybe he could stop it before it made it to his skin. Where was that stupid napkin?

There. The girl was holding it. He snatched it out of her hands, focusing immediately on the transmutation.

It wasn't working, why wasn't it working? He looked down at the array to see a tear and a smudged lipstick stain. She'd broken the circle. Shit.

"Maes! Do you have any chalk?" Roy looked pleadingly at his friend. The flames where growing, he could feel the heat on his face. Thank the universe he had a thing for wearing layers.

"Why would I carry chalk with me to a bar Roy?" Maes threw his arms out in front of himself, confused. "We have to smother the fire!"

"I know that Maes, I'm a fire alchemist." Roy gestured wildly towards his pocket watch, He could feel burns starting to form on his arm, if this took too much longer they could be fairly severe. "do you think I don't know how to put out a fire? That's why I need the damn chalk!"

"Why would you need chalk to put out a fire Roy, that makes no sense."

"Quit lecturing me on how to put out fires Maes, I think I—

Suddenly, a good amount of water was dumped over Roy's frame. He turned slowly to see the brunette with a small bucket. One of the ones they use to keep wine bottles in ice. The fire wasn't completely out but the flames were small now and refusing to catch on the wet fabric. He was able to pat the rest of them down until they went away. Roy didn't say anything, standing as awkwardly as the other two until Hughes broke the silence.

"So Roy, you going to introduce me to your friend?"


End file.
